


Thinking About It

by Telaryn



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Bisexuality, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Fantasizing, First Time, Hand Jobs, Kissing, M/M, Male Slash, Rough Sex, Sparring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-31
Updated: 2013-01-31
Packaged: 2017-11-27 16:59:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/664329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telaryn/pseuds/Telaryn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Digg occasionally thinks about what a less professional relationship with Oliver might be like.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thinking About It

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mizzy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mizzy/gifts).



> Proof that Mizzy, Whiskyinmind and I should probably never be left unchaperoned on Gmail for too long.

He would have been lying if he said he’d never thought about it. Oliver Queen was a good looking man, even if you didn’t know about the incredibly muscled body hidden by the designer clothes, cocky grin and arrogant gleam in his eyes. When you knew what John Diggle knew – that Oliver Queen was one of the most talented, best trained fighters he’d _ever_ seen in action – well, even if he wasn’t already conveniently bisexual, Digg was pretty sure he would have thought about it.

The man invited the attention.

Nothing had come of it so far, because John was a professional and justifiably proud of his ability to set his personal feelings aside when the need called for it. Aside from the occasional inappropriate glance or unexpected surge of attraction, he’d been very careful to do nothing to tip his hand to Queen about his possible interest in a more…physical…relationship.

And then they’d fought – really fought. Oliver had been floundering as a result of his near death experience at the hands of the mysterious ninja archer. Digg had seen it plenty of times: the combination of shock, pain and fear slithered under a man’s defenses and made him hesitate, made him doubt himself in a world where doubt inevitably got you killed.

So he’d attacked and he’d pushed and he’d welcomed it when Oliver finally retaliated. The fight had been a nasty one. Emotions and adrenaline were high on both sides as they traded blows, and then Oliver had finally put him over one of the desks. All of Digg’s carefully constructed professionalism, his precious self-control, had come unraveled in the moment he’d been pressed to the heavy wood surface, his arm twisted painfully up behind him and Oliver molded tightly to his back.

 _”What did that prove?”_ Oliver had been half-blind with rage and self-loathing, otherwise John was pretty sure he would have clocked the change in his bodyguard/partner/sidekick/wtfever’s breathing that he tried to hide with a sarcastic quip about the sturdy construction of the desk.

He _definitely_ would have noticed the hard-on that was suddenly making walking a very interesting experience for Digg.

Ultimately it hadn’t been the time or the place to pursue it. And once they caught the firebug and took him out of play, John figured if he spent that first night in his bed jerking off to the fantasy that Oliver _had_ seen the effect he’d had and _had_ chosen to pursue it, well that was between himself and his God, as the saying went.

 _”You don’t dictate to me!” Nails raking his flesh, button popping as his dress slacks are dragged over his hips, halfway down his thighs. Stretch and burn of Oliver fucking into him, with only spit to ease the way._ He’d already calculated that properly lubed Queen would be a good fit, but this particular fantasy wasn’t about “proper” or easy.

This was about being pinned, helpless to stop what was happening to him… _each snap of Oliver’s hips pushing his achingly hard cock into the edge of the desk, dragging pleasure right to the outer limits of real pain._

He’d come so hard that first time just from the fantasy of him and Oliver together that it seemed like every muscle in his body had gone rigid. Streaks of come striped his chest and stomach as his cock pulsed in his fist and he tried to remember how to breathe properly.

The fantasies took the edge off – let him continue interacting with Queen on a more professional level and save his more salacious thoughts for when he was by himself. As such, it wasn’t until a few weeks after they’d stopped a rash of armored car heists masterminded by Digg’s former army buddy that he was even in a position to think about the possibility of anything more immediate.

They’d been in the warehouse, sparring hand to hand this time. It was warm, close-quarter work, and gradually Digg realized the smell of the other man filling his nostrils (expensive cologne mixed liberally with sweat and the subtle scent of the leather that seemed to cling to him whether he was wearing it or not) was leading his thoughts in less…combative…directions.

It was maybe a split second’s distraction, but still more than enough for Oliver to get the drop on him. Digg’s legs went out from under him – victim of a textbook sweep – and he hit the floor hard enough to momentarily knock the air from his lungs. Instincts still mercifully in working order, he rolled to his hands and knees before his brain had even finished processing what the hell had just happened.

Before he could scramble back to his feet however, Oliver had fallen in behind him and was using a wrestling hold Digg had learned in _high school_ to try and take him flat. The two men struggled ferociously for several minutes, each trying to regain the upper hand, when Digg inadvertently flexed his hips – pushing back into the unexpectedly hard bulge of Oliver’s erection.

And Queen made a _sound_. It was soft – in fact, if the moment hadn’t suddenly hit every one of Digg’s buttons simultaneously he might have missed it entirely – but he heard it, and he could tell immediately that Oliver had _liked_ the sudden pressure against his groin.

So after a beat, he flexed his hips again – this time in clear invitation. “Digg,” Oliver moaned – his voice breathy, with a surprised, pleading edge that seemed to vibrate straight through Diggle to his cock. After a brief hesitation where neither of them moved, Digg dropped himself flat to the concrete floor, slipped free of Oliver’s grip, rolled onto his back and wrapped his legs tight around Queen’s waist. Their eyes met as Digg pulled him in and down and he let Oliver see just how much the feel of their erections sliding against each other affected him.

“Hell of a way to win a fight,” Oliver muttered; then he pressed himself full length against Digg and kissed him. It was open-mouthed and ferocious – he forced his tongue into Digg’s mouth, and all John could do was yield to the intrusion. His right hand groped at the waistband of Digg’s sweats, jerking them and his shorts down just far enough to free his shaft. 

Digg tried to pull himself together long enough to return the favor, but Oliver broke off their kiss at that moment, pulling back until their eyes met. “Don’t. I want to watch you come, Digg.” A warm, calloused hand circled his cock, stroking him firmly. John arched his back, eyes rolling briefly back in his head as he thrust blindly into the younger man’s fist.

“Want to see you fall apart…” Digg moaned, hands scrabbling weakly for purchase against the concrete slab as he writhed in Oliver’s grasp. Liquid heat pooled low in his groin, pleasure swelling inside his head until it drove him past all good sense.

“Oliver…” _Warm…_ Everything was suddenly very warm and very heavy. Time slipped as Oliver continued to jack him; hard and firm and more talented than he would have expected from the notorious playboy.

“I’m here Digg…” Oliver’s voice was velvet and sin in Digg’s ears, thick with the sound of his own mounting arousal. “I’ve got you.” He licked a damp line the length of John’s throat, making the older man arch and gasp. “God, you taste so good.”

“Want…” Digg swallowed hard, ducking his head as Oliver flicked his thumb across a particularly sensitive cluster of nerves just under the head of his cock. “Want to fuck that mouth of yours,” he breathed, thrusting even harder into Oliver’s fist as his orgasm crowded close. “Show you just how good I taste.”

“I could be on board for that,” Oliver said, and it was enough to push Digg over the edge. He came with a long, loud, ragged cry – thick, hot liquid splashing against his skin as Oliver milked him dry. Endorphins flooded his system and the world went momentarily white around him. _Fuck…fuck…fuck…_

He had no idea how much time he’d lost when reality finally started to bleed back in around him. “Maybe next time,” he gasped as he found his voice again, and the waves of pleasure crashing through him finally began to subside.

Their eyes met one final time, and Digg shivered at the sudden dark heat in Oliver’s gaze. “I could be on board with that too.”


End file.
